Tally sticks in hand, Silas set off for the Nara temple to collect his pay. While the streets were still wet with rain, the manna had all been cleared, leaving the streets sparkling with rainbows of light. As he approached the temple, the streets grew crowded with lantern-carrying residents travelling to the temple for the first-quarter service. Imitating their parents, the children carried toy lanterns, simple wire cages with a few trapped glowworms. The temple grounds occupied fully one third of the arc around Nara's well, with an altar at the well's edge. The seats for the worshippers were cut into the slope of the city bowl and a polished metal wall behind the rows of seats focused the reflected light onto the polished metal altar. Silas walked past the closed treasury gate, adjusted his hood, and sat down with the other worshippers. He'd get his money after the service was over.

The stream of worshippers flowing into the temple slowed and then stopped. A gong sounded and a priest, dressed in a robe of polished discs to reflect light, stepped up to the altar at the edge of the well and turned to face the audience.

“Light is truth!" he declaimed.

“There were three silk merchants who travelled the darkness, praised be their bravery, to connect the wellsprings of light with wealth and knowledge. These merchants were bold and confident, the further they travelled, the more their silks were valued. So each journey was longer, each profit was greater, each success granted more confidence, until one day they overstepped their reach.

“The merchants heard of a mine in need of cloth, a mine so valuable that an entire town had formed around it despite the lack of a nearby light well. According to the locals, it was a hundred hour journey, so they filled their cart with more than enough oil for the trip there and back, just in case the supply at the mine should be inadequate.

“But they had not foreseen the dangers of the road. One of their carts, the one carrying most of their oil, slipped off a cliff during a manna storm, taking their oil with it. When they arrived at the mine, they had only enough fuel to travel halfway back.

“It was then their troubles truly began. The mine had no large oil press, for with their wealth, they had been able to purchase the services of a lightwright to provide lighting. Worse, while the miners were willing to buy their cloth, they were not willing to provide a lighted area for them, so their sales were made in the shadows of the town, for the merchants did not dare use their precious oil if they could see at all. Despite the lack of light, they had no shortage of customers and sold all their goods easily.

“Finally, it was time to return. They filled their carts with shining gold ore and made the trip back to the nearest well. Their journey was treacherous from haste and dim light, but their remaining wagons returned intact. Finally, in the blessed light of a well, they evaluated the results of their trip.

“The miners had cheated them. They had copper coins where they expected gold. The ore was fool’s gold. Without light, they had been unable to see the truth. A single step into darkness and they were lost.”

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The priest raised his hands. "Hail the light!"

In response the crowd stood and raised their lanterns. Silas raised his with the rest, then started. He wasn't carrying his lantern. It had been left on his cart back home. He stood awkwardly, hands by his sides.

The priest looked over the crowd as he continued his sermon, "Light is truth! It reveals that which is concealed. Nothing and no one can hide from its gaze, especially not you!"

He pointed and a beam of red light followed his hand, illuminating Silas. "You! You who seek to hide your face at our sacred assembly! Be revealed for the agent of darkness you are! Take off his hood!"

As Silas gaped in response to the accusation, the people surrounding him on the benches grabbed him and tore the hood from his head, choking him as the drawstring on his cloak was pulled against his neck. The priest marched from the altar, keeping the shaft of light focused on Silas as he approached.

"Worse and worse! I know this man. Listen, O people, as I tell you of the insidiousness of darkness. Of how it seeks to corrupt the very church of Light from within. This man was in the employ of the church, charged with preserving the light in the streets. Charged with pushing back the darkness as it sought to choke out the light. He was a warrior on the forefront of the battle who struggled to keep the light of Bastion pure. He was a harvester, the first link in the chain that takes that darkness which falls from the sky and turns it to flame.

"To my sorrow, he has proven too weak for the task. The darkness seeped into his heart even as he fought it for us all. For our mistake in entrusting him with the responsibility of your protection, I apologise to all of you on behalf of all the priests of Light.

"Now, let me rectify our mistake. Silas, you are revealed an outcast from the Light. No longer may you feign to act as our defender. Your home, a gift of the church, is forfeit. You are banished to the liminal district to learn again what it means to be a beacon of Light. May you shine again in our hearts."

The priest raised his hands over his head, and the light reaching them twisted, bending away from Silas and forming a path of darkness leading out of the temple. The people standing in the darkness recoiled, backing into the light and leaving the path clear. Silas shuddered to his feet and shambled along the path and out of the temple, his tally sticks forgotten in his cloak.

Silas wandered slowly through the streets, staring at the ground. Inexorably, he found himself retracing the route he took with his cart to clean the streets of manna, finishing at his home. As he reached for the door to enter, two temple guards standing next to it shifted sideways, barring the way.

"I win the bet," the first guard said, then pointed at Silas. "Did you not hear the priest? Your home is forfeit. You have no place here. Go back to the hole you crawled out of, child of darkness."

"But, but, my clothes, my lantern, my money? What can I do?"

The second guard stepped forward. "The house and everything in it is forfeit. However, your words show some hope for you yet remains. Wait here. Argan, give me a moment inside." He went into Silas's house and came out holding the forgotten lantern. "If you are to return to the light, you'll need this. Now go!"

"And don't think about returning!" called the first guard as Silas left his home behind. "We're changing the locks, so you can't sneak back inside!"